


Rot

by Story781



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Confusion, Denial of Feelings, First Crush, Ghosts, I legit dont know how to tag this, I mean Justice is inside a dead body wtf are you expecting, Mentions of Anders being himself in Awakening, Other, Pining, Sort of? - Freeform, Spirits, Undescribed fighting, What did I write?? its a surprise!!, basically just Justice being very confused, mentions of decay, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Story781/pseuds/Story781
Summary: Warden Commander Cousland considers herself about as average as a mortal gets, and yet, when allowed to take a closer look, Justice finds himself fascinated with her entire being.
Relationships: Justice & Female Cousland, Justice & Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Rot

**Author's Note:**

> not tagged as a ship because im not sure it is one. the summary makes it seem much deeper than it is. stupid shit. self-indulgent. do not recommend.  
> featuring my awfully cynical writing style

There was a quiet click, the sound of stone against stone, and he made the decision in a split second. Justice kicked the Warden-Commander's legs forward, making her lose her balance and fall back into his outstretched arm. The dim light of the torches along the walls reflected off a sharp edge as a blade came down, only barely missing the woman's face, before vanishing into the ceiling once more. Then it all went silent.

Cousland's eyes ran frantically from the slit above her head to Justice's pale face, before they settled on staring blankly forward. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breaths, as the spirit stepped slightly closer and adjusted his grip on her, making sure she doesn't hit the stone floor. Her hands moved to his arms, and neither of them knew if it was because of her need for physical or mental support.

"That... uh. Thanks. That was close," she finally managed, clearing her throat, holding onto him with still trembling hands.

"You should be more careful, Warden-Commander," he stated, tucking some loose hair behind the woman's ear, with the assumption that it was somehow obscuring her vision. The gentle touch conjured memories, not of his own, a feeling of warmth and comfort. As pleasant as this was, she's told him once that he shouldn't dwell into Kristoff's memories, and he intended to listen. Even if it was very tempting at times. Usually the fault of his new-found fascination with the world of the living.

"Thank the heavens I've decided to take you of all people," the commander muttered, slowly moving to stand on her own, yet still with the possessed arms supporting her body. "That would have..."

"Killed you, yes," Justice confirmed, nodding.  
For a moment, fear flashed through her eyes, maybe as she imagined the blade slicing her head in half and her knees hitting the stone floor as fresh blood pooled around her. And then it was gone. Replaced with a look he could only assume was one of someone forcing themselves to snap back to their senses.

They were both silent, eyes locked as the moment felt much longer then it was in reality. He thought he saw something else in her eyes, something more, something that felt out of place and wrong, unnatural. Yet sweet. Pleasant. It made his chest tighten where he believed the heart should be. Which was rather odd, considering he was quite sure Kristoff's heart was no longer there, he's lost it during a fight a few weeks back. And yet there it was. That tight squeeze. That warmth, confusion, and strange nervousness when he held her, so close, so warm and soft under his fingers. He'd assumed all mortals felt like this, but to actually hold one... it was odd.

For a moment, reflecting both on what he's seen first hand and the faded, distant memories, he thought that if he could (meaning "had any blood in him"), he would have, as he believed they called it, blushed.

Suddenly she winced.

"This would have been so romantic if you weren't inside the rotting corpse of somebody's husband," she complained, turning her head away and slipping out of his arms. Well. "His" arms.

She patted herself down, brushing off something he perhaps couldn't see, or just wasn't there. Clearing her throat, she picked up the dagger she'd dropped when Justice kicked her down, and then, finally, he thought, and immediately questioned why, she looked back at him.

"Come on. Before the rest gets themselves into trouble." Her head nodded towards the end of the hall, where the other two have gone a while ago.

Shortly after that, a shout reached their ears, followed by the sound of casted spells and Anders being usually full of himself.

The commander turned her head towards Justice again, waved her hand in a disappointed manner, and ran, as fast as her average-length legs could carry her, to aid. The spirit, of course, followed suit, unable to stay behind and dwell on the events of just a few moments ago. As he later slashed through darkspawn with his sword, a thought flashed through his mind, that maybe not having the time to think about it was for the better.

That maybe some things, some fascinations, were not fit for a spirit, and should be left alone.


End file.
